


Five Floors Down

by sallyamongpoison



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types
Genre: Dorian makes bad decisions, M/M, Meet-Cute, written for prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-18
Updated: 2017-11-18
Packaged: 2019-02-03 18:37:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12753894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sallyamongpoison/pseuds/sallyamongpoison
Summary: In which Dorian has locked himself out of his apartment, and shows up to Cullen's with a very bad idea.Written for the prompt: “I locked myself out of my apartment so I have to climb out your window and onto my balcony” AU





	Five Floors Down

“I’m sorry…what?”

The man on the other side of the door, the man Cullen had seen his fair share of times, sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. He looked…well, disgruntled, first of all, but far less put together than he ever had in the eight months that Cullen had been living in the building. Every time there had been a smile, perhaps a quick hello when getting the mail or when they got into the elevator at the same time, and he’d always looked impeccable. Now? Now the finely tailored suit was replaced with sweatpants, what Cullen could only assume were Nevarran leather loafers with tacky flip flops, and his usual well-coiffed black hair was mussed and sticking up at a slightly odd angle.

“I just…look, I need to get out of your window. If you don’t mind,” he repeated, and again Cullen just stared at him.

Dorian. Dorian Pavus, as he’d learned his second or third week living there, was asking if he could use his window so he could climb over the railing to get to the balcony that was just beside it. It was ridiculous. Dangerous. And, really, kind of  _actively_  stupid.

He was about to open his mouth again before Dorian sighed, “I locked myself out, and I know the balcony door is unlocked. So, you know…if you don’t mind?” His tone was getting a bit terse, stressed, and by the look of him that frustration had been going on for a bit. Cullen knew all too well the joys of coming home only to realize he’d left his keys or misplaced them, but crawling out a window on the fifth floor of a building seemed a little overkill just to get inside.

“You could just ask the building manager-” was all he got out before Dorian pushed past him. Cullen turned, surveyed the man standing in his living room, and blinked twice as Dorian folded his arms.

“It doesn’t seem like you’re hiding some illicit drug handling in here, you know,” he deadpanned, “unless there’s some other reason why you won’t let me?” Grey eyes looked around the, admittedly, austere room. Cullen had never been much of one for decorating, and he was certainly feeling it now. Not that he had a lot of people over or anything, nor did he have people pushing inside at odd hours either, but the way Dorian looked around made his cheeks heat a bit. Living there eight months and he’d only just furnished the place with the bare minimum.

Slowly, Cullen shut the door. He turned, faced Dorian, and tucked his hands in his pockets, “I mean…scaling the building because you locked yourself out seems like a bit much, don’t you think?”

“Considering our oh-so competent manager is already gone for the night, and I could get in a lot faster this way than asking her to come all the way out here to give me the spare key…no, no it’s not.”

“You’re really set on this, aren’t you?”

Dorian rolled his eyes, and without another word headed toward the back of the apartment where said window lived. In…Maker, help him, the bedroom. The man moved like he owned the place, and in any other situation Cullen  _might_  have appreciated the confidence. However, nearly in the middle of the night with someone he didn’t really know and that was in his  _apartment_  wasn’t exactly the time for admiration. Right now was the time for alarm bells going off in his head as he followed Dorian into his own room.

By the time he got there, the man already had the window open and was leaning out of it. Experimenting, Cullen assumed, and he took up the space right behind Dorian as he watched him lean out with one arm outstretched to reach for the railing that had be seven feet from the window. “Almost…”

“Almost?” Cullen asked with a chuckle.

“Stay out of this,” Dorian hissed as he leaned a bit further out and hitched his hips up onto the windowsill, “if I jump I could make it.”

Now it was Cullen’s turn to roll his eyes, “Or you could  _not_  make it and end up on the pavement. Five floors down.”

“Or  _you_  could give me a hand!”

“ _I’m_  not giving you a hand.  _I’m_  calling a locksmith.”

In a moment Dorian was back through the window and standing nearly chest to chest with Cullen, “If you would just help me-”

“I am helping. I’m helping you not be splattered on the sidewalk. Now, do you want to wait in the hallway or do you want a cup of coffee while this guy takes probably, what, an hour to show up?” Cullen asked. He didn’t move, didn’t waver as he watched a whole host of expressions cross Dorian’s face. First anger, then perhaps some confusion, then finally acceptance.

“I could have made it, you know.”

“Sure. I believe you.”

Two hours later, door now unlocked, Dorian bid Cullen a slightly less aggravated goodbye. Coffee had been had, along with a second dinner of Rivaini takeaway that got there much sooner than the promised locksmith. Oddly, it hadn’t been terribly awkward. Cullen had assumed Dorian would spend most of that time huffing about not being able realize the (after a while, admittedly stupid) plan. Apparently Dorian didn’t like asking for help, but after a while he’d relented and thanked Cullen for not letting him do something so reckless to save his dignity.

It had been kind of nice once the initial weirdness wore off, actually. 

Never mind the fact that about a week later he came home to find a small box sitting outside his door. Strange. Inside was a key and a note, which only made him laugh before he turned to the door beside his own to knock. Maybe Dorian wouldn’t mind a late dinner. With him. Or something.

_Just in case I get locked out again. Maybe stop me from doing something rash. :) - Dorian_

**Author's Note:**

> Hey it's been a minute since I did anything. So have this.
> 
> You can follow me on Tumblr! @sallyamongpoison


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